


Coffee, Cake and a Proposal

by brokencasbutt67



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Coffee Shop, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23577745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: Just some fluff really, written for the MotM in the Gomens Big Bang discord
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

Crowley has never been one for grand romantic gestures. He’s loved Aziraphale for long enough that the angel is well aware of his love, he doesn’t need any big shows for the angel. But when it comes to this wedding proposal, Crowley is floundering like a fish out of water. Everything he has thought of doing isn’t big enough, isn’t grand enough, isn’t  _ enough  _ for the angel who deserves everything. 

His immediate thought was to do it at The Ritz, the hotel has played such a pivotal part in their relationship throughout the years. Each time that someone has proposed to their partner while Aziraphale and Crowley were at the Ritz, Crowley would watch the way the angel softened, a tear forming in his blue eyes. But, for some reason, it doesn’t seem like it’s enough for Aziraphale, he deserves so much more. 

Crowley has debated with Anathema a million and one times, and each time it ends the same way. They debate the possible locations, Crowley denies each one as being not good enough, and then, the conversation ends. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry Aziraphale, hell, it’s the opposite, but Crowley is so scared of the rejection. He knows Aziraphale isn’t someone who’s keen on grand romantic gestures - he much prefers the times when they’re laid together in bed, just sharing each other’s embrace. 

_ Crowley can’t help but remember the first night he stayed over at Aziraphale’s flat. They were laid side by side, just looking into each other’s eyes for the longest time, with the angel’s hand resting on Crowley’s cheek. The sun had risen, they were sharing warmth. They knew they had to get up eventually, but in that single moment, the world around them was calm.  _

Aziraphale wanders into the living room, looking over to the demon who looks so deep in thought, it worries the angel. 

“Crowley, dear, are you okay?” Aziraphale asks, sitting beside Crowley.    
“What? Oh yeah, no I’m fine, angel” Crowley says softly and reaches down to take hold of Aziraphale’s hand. The angel didn’t look one hundred percent sure about Crowley’s answer, but he chose not to press the matter further.    
“Anathema and Newton have asked if we would join them for a coffee double date later this afternoon, would you like to go?” Aziraphale asks, curling close to Crowley.    
“Sure, angel, that sounds nice” Crowley responds.    


It got close to the time that they were due to leave for the coffee shop and Aziraphale was locking up in the bookshop, while Crowley was sat on his side of the bed, holding the ring box in his hand. He’d had the ring for nearly four years since Armaggedon had been successfully averted. 

Aziraphale’s voice floated up the stairs, calling out to Crowley to get ready to go.    
“Coming angel” Crowley responds, shoving the box into his jeans pocket initially, but the bulge it created was too large, so he moves it into his jacket pocket, where it isn’t as obvious. 

He jogs down the stairs, grabbing his car keys as he does. Aziraphale’s face lights up when he sees Crowley, as it always does. Crowley can’t help himself as he kisses the angel. 

The coffee shop is a short drive out of London, and the drive is always the same. Aziraphale looks out the window, Crowley drives at a normal-ish speed, and they make their way towards the coffee shop, where Newt and Anathema will meet them. 

Today is exactly the same. Crowley parks the car where he always does, they make their way inside, and Newt and Anathema are sat where they always are. 

Aziraphale takes his seat beside Crowley, and immediately Crowley’s arm falls over Aziraphale’s shoulder. Anathema gives Crowley a knowing look, she recognizes what is going through Crowley’s mind.    
“Newt, could you be a doll and go get us some drinks? Aziraphale, maybe you would like to join him?” She asks. Aziraphale and Newt nod, both jumping to go order the drinks and get menus for the food. 

“When are you going to ask him, Crowley? It’s been four years now, and if you don’t ask him, I’ll be asking him soon” Anathema spoke, sternly, yet just quiet enough that neither Newt or Aziraphale would hear it.    
“Never seems like the right time” Crowley tries to excuse his delays, though he knows it is a lie. The only reason he hasn’t asked  _ that _ question yet is because he’s scared.    
“Crowley, babe, he won’t leave you - you know that right? He looks at you like you’re his favorite book or...or his favorite crepes. He’s more likely to jump you if you ask him. You don’t need to do it here, do it where you’re comfortable. It’s as much about him as it is about you, but the longer you put it off, the longer you’re delaying your own happiness” Anathema says. Crowley nods, taken aback by Anathema’s words. He pulls the box out of his pocket, fiddling with it for a few minutes, before standing up and walking out of the coffee shop. 

Anathema looks to where he was walking away, then back to where he was just sat - the sofa still has an imprint of where he was sat. She sighs and looks over to Aziraphale. A moment later, the door swings open, and Crowley storms back in, taking a swig from a flask, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s inside of it. 

He sits back down and watches as Aziraphale and Newt come over with a tray of drinks. Aziraphale sits back down beside Crowley, his eyes fall onto the flask, but he says nothing about it. Crowley kisses the top of Aziraphale’s head.    
“So, Aziraphale, how’s life in the bookshop?” Newt asks.    
“Oh, it is wonderful. I just got a new original copy of a book from 1709, so that’s going to be looked at this evening, I believe” Aziraphale starts and Crowley zones out quite quickly, as he often does when Aziraphale begins talking about books. It’s no insult to Aziraphale, but Crowley just has no interest in the books. Crowley isn’t entirely sure if it’s the alcohol or the box in his pocket, but Crowley cannot take his eyes off of the angel. Aziraphale looks so enthused and excited about talking about the books. 

Anathema immediately picks up on the lovestruck look on Crowley’s face as Aziraphale is talking. It doesn’t take a genius to see it, hell, half the coffee shop can probably see just how in love Crowley is with Aziraphale, it’s like a cartoon where the character has love hearts surrounding them. He isn’t entirely sure if it’s the alcohol going to his head, or something else, but Crowley can’t stop thinking about how much he loves the angel. He rests his hand over the box for a moment and decides that now is probably the best time, though any time will do it. If he doesn’t do it now, when will he? 

After a few minutes of Aziraphale blabbering on about some...thing, Crowley takes the angel’s hand in his own, and he attempts to go onto one knee, though he looks more like he is praying than anything else.    
“Angel…” He trails off. Anathema smiles widely, knowing what’s happening. Newt, on the other hand, looks rather confused.    
“I know that we’re hereditary enemies, or whatever the hell is the term. I don’t care. I love you, so damn much. Whether it’s how excited you are talking about some books or whatever it is that you talk about, that’s not important. When you wake up groggy and moody, when you’re eating, on a night when you’re asleep and I’m awake. I’ve wanted to ask this for a long time now, I’ve been thinking about it even longer. I love you, so damn much. I can’t say until death do us part, because we won’t die, but maybe you could be my forever?” Crowley asks, pulling the box from his pocket and opening it. A simple diamond ring sat in it. 

Aziraphale’s eyes widen, he gasps and Crowley becomes incredibly aware that all eyes in the coffee shop are on him and Aziraphale. He wants to turn into a snake, to run away and hide, but Aziraphale deserves better than that.    
“Crowley, dear….” Aziraphale trails off, a tear racing down his cheek as he drops to his knees beside Crowley. Crowley reaches up to cup Aziraphale’s cheek, wiping away the aforementioned tear. Aziraphale leans into the touch, like a dog relaxing in the warmth of the sun in summer.    
"I love you too Crowley, so much” Aziraphale murmurs, leaning forward to kiss Crowley. The ring falls between them as they kiss, reaching up to hold each other’s hands. Eventually, they separate, before anyone can complain about how PG13 it is getting.    
“You know I’m going to marry you, whether it’s here, or in the bookshop. Not in a church though” Aziraphale promises.    
“You’ve been in enough churches for me” He smiles, and Crowley chuckles slightly, reminiscing of that day back in 1941, when Crowley risked his life for Aziraphale, as he so often did. That was the moment that Aziraphale realized he was in love with Crowley though, and that he had been in love with the demon for so long.    
  
As Aziraphale and Crowley kneel side by side, Newt can’t help himself but nudge Anathema.    
“Maybe it’ll be us next” He chuckles. Anathema smiles and kisses his cheek.    
“Maybe it will”    
  
Their surroundings continue to pass by, people drinking coffees, eating cakes and talking with friends, like a normal day for them. But for Aziraphale and Crowley, this day has been anything but ordinary. 


	2. Chapter 2

Returning to the bookshop, late in the evening, Aziraphale and Crowley are both too tired to function. They had been tempted to stop off in a hotel until the next morning, though Crowley much prefers to sleep in the bookshop – the bed is comfortable, and he feels at home here. He powered through, and they arrive close to 9 pm. Aziraphale leads him inside, and the mood around them changes. They both know where they want to go, but they're too tired to even think about doing anything like that. The bookshop is locked up and they walk through to the back, up the stairs and into the flat. Crowley tosses his jacket aside, followed by his shades and his shoes.

He turns to Aziraphale, who is similarly removing his shoes. They make their way through to the bedroom, and Crowley is almost immediately undressed and slithering into bed. He lays on his side, resting his head on his hand while he watches Aziraphale undressing. The angel slides into the bed, and Crowley kisses Aziraphale’s cheek.

They curl close, laid side by side as they slowly daze off to sleep. Crowley’s head lingers on Aziraphale’s chest, though they do shift across the bed as they attempt to get comfortable to sleep.

Aziraphale is the first one to sleep, for a change. He’s snoring away, holding Crowley impossibly tightly. Every so often, Crowley will lift Aziraphale’s hand and look at the way the ring twinkles under the moonlight. He feels a fondness in his heart, a softness towards the angel. It’s been so long since they were able to accept their friendship and their inevitable love that follows, it was sometime before the split and Crowley’s fall.

The moonlight is framing Aziraphale when Crowley looks up to the angel. He looks so innocent, so pure. _He is innocent and pure, Heaven just broke Aziraphale to the shell of the angel he truly is._

Before Crowley can get too lost in his thoughts, Aziraphale is pulling him even closer, mumbling something that’s lost to sleep. Crowley chuckles slightly, cuddling up at Aziraphale’s side. He lets himself fall asleep, there’s plenty of time for him to think about how much he loves Aziraphale. Moments like this, though, need to be seized.


End file.
